It's Not The End But A New Beginning
by teenybirdy
Summary: Unable to resist, I step closer and cupping her face in my palms, brush the pads of my thumbs under her eyes, removing the stray tears. "Stay." My touch remains light, in case she wishes to pull away but she immediately curls into me and I feel awash with relief even as she cries.


NOTE: So this fic goes out to all those that provided feedback, requesting a sequel of Every End Is A New Beginning. I suggest reading that before this, although it may be OK as a standalone. Please feel free to me know what you think. T x

**~x~**

I should start by admitting to my mistakes where Andrea Sachs is concerned, for they have brought me to this moment, where I told her resignation in one hand, while the other forms a fist around a note of a more personal nature, an explanation that does not explain anything at all.

I've read the words held tightly in my fist multiple times, trying to come to terms with what they say and also what has not been said.

I am guilty of being one of the many reasons everyone eventually leaves. I am cold, indifferent and easily disappointed. I make my displeasure known to those that invoke it on occasion, often using it as a barrier against the world. I know, although I have not been quite ready to admit it, there was a small part of me that somehow thought she would be the one to bypass all my usual barriers.

My feelings for her have been rather unexpected and yet I cannot say why. Since the first moment we met, there was a force that pulled me towards her, making me send Emily after her, causing me to explain things I would never usually deign to, making me ask for the impossible while secretly hoping she somehow succeeded, causing me to ask her for more.

She allowed me to hope, but as always I have been found lacking.

I cannot say I blame her for finding me so. I have used her to give me what I needed without consideration of her feelings, knowing she would end up hurt by my actions and yet over the months since Paris, I have found myself wishing I could just bare my soul to the beautiful young woman that has somehow captured it.

But how could I?

I dreamed of starting a wonderful life with her by my side, giving her room to spread her wings and soar into future successes. I didn't know at the time of course, but it seems my dreams have been for naught. I let myself become obsessed with wanting to make this happen and sadly not knowing how to do so.

How was I supposed to approach this when we have not even kissed?

I have had all these scenarios going through my mind, planning how it would all play out. Always, in the end, we would be happy and more in love than ever. Because it's simply the purest form of love I feel for her but until last night I tried to tell myself otherwise, unsure that she felt the same. Her eyes though, as she said goodnight, held a wealth of love and pain that took my breath away and I was unable to find the words to ask her to remain. Even then, on the cusp of losing her, I struggled to show it.

My latest preparation for beginning my life with Andrea saw me planning to ask her to lunch and attempting to articulate my feelings, but her resignation advises me that the company cell has been left on her desk and I stupidly do not have her number, having never seen it as something I would ever require. I also now know she is planning to leave the city today, with her parent's coming in from Ohio to assist her.

I feel powerless to stop this, after all, what could I ever do to persuade her to stay?

Uncurling my fist, I try to smooth out the letter, wanting to read the words penned thoughtfully by the brunette. I know, despite her telling me so, she has tortured herself over every word.

**_Miranda,_**

**_This is a letter that I never thought I would have to write and to say that I've agonised over it is an understatement. I come to it now with a distinct understanding of what I must say._**

**_Rather than strengthening our lives, the changes in our relationship merely weigh us down and make our lives more difficult. I do not want to be the cause of your life becoming harder than it already is. _****_With that in mind, I_****_ made a two-column list of pros and cons before realising it was a waste of time since nothing will change. _**

**_This brought me to one of the hardest decisions of my life - To move on._**

**_It is not a decision I have arrived at easily but my parents have been pushing for this since Paris and I hoped for us both to have the opportunity to part ways quietly and with dignity. _****_I will be ready to leave the city before dark tomorrow so we can_****_ make our way through the night back to Cincinnati. _**

**_I wish you well and I truly hope you will accept that my well-wishes are not just some hackneyed phrase to gain favour. I have always wanted you to be happy, Miranda, so please believe me now when I say that I wish you a wonderful and fulfilling life. _**

**_Despite everything, I don't regret being with you._** **_I loved you._**

**_Goodbye,_**

**_Andrea x_**

Rereading her words has me newly amazed. I learned quite quickly Andréa had a beautiful heart, but this act of selflessness, on my behalf, is something I just can't give up on. I cannot give her up and knowing this has me folding her note, looking at my employee records, rising to my feet, grabbing my fleece-lined leather jacket, purse and car keys and heading to the garage at the back of my house.

I find it hard to concentrate manoeuvring through New York traffic while my thoughts are filled with Andrea, planning on how I can get her to stay but fortune is in my favour as thirty minutes after leaving home I find a parking spot half a block away from Andrea's building.

Walking slowly down Broome Street, I take in the local sights. Two young women gape when they recognise me and I cannot stop myself from lifting my shades and giving them a once over. I offer them both a slight nod and smile softly. Their wide smiles make my own widen imperceptibly. I often forget that these young people are the ones I am trying to inspire as I seek perfection on the pages of my magazine, they are the ones that will continue pushing fashion forward, once I am long gone.

As I continue to move through the quiet foot traffic, I am not surprised by the bustling activity coming from one particular apartment block as boxes and furniture are shifted into the back of a large 7-Seater SUV. I am however astonished to recognise two of the people standing on the sidewalk as my Creative Director and my First Assistant.

They are both dressed down and I hear them bickering good-naturedly even from the small distance between us. What stuns me the most is that they knew of this departure before I, which means it has not been a rash decision as I had hoped, but one given a great deal of consideration.

I stall as my eyes land on an older woman who can only be Andréa's mother. Her long salt and pepper hair is thick and wavy, but it is her smile, as she throws an arm around Emily's shoulder with ease and teases the redhead, that has my breath catching. It is the smile that has greeted me every day for almost a year and I realise natural beauty runs through the maternal side of the Sachs family. As her eyes meet mine, I see the woman's eyes are different, far shrewder and most surprisingly of all, a stunning shade of blue in comparison to the ever-changing hazel hues of her daughter's expressive orbs.

I watch as Nigel follows the woman's gaze and speaks softly her. The woman nods before pulling away from Emily and moving inside the building quickly. Gathering my wits, I move closer to the open front doors only to have Nigel block my way. "Miranda, what on Earth..."

"I need to speak to her." I internally wince at the imploring tone of my voice.

"It's fine, Nige. We're pretty much done here." Andrea steps into the cold yet bright winter day, her arm wrapped around her father's waist. He is a tall, dark-haired, well-built man and when I gaze up into dark expressive eyes, more chocolate than hazel, they hold the same gentleness as Andrea's.

It is a bitterly cold day, so she is bundled up under an oversized sweatshirt emblazoned with her college name and wearing UGG boots over skinny jeans. Her hair has been put up in a messy bun with tendrils that frame her beautiful face.

I have never seen her look so beautiful, not even upon her makeover.

I hold my hand out to the man seeing much of Andrea in him and wishing to make a good impression on our first proper meeting. "Mr Sachs, I'm..."

He takes my hand gently as his wife speaks coldly, stepping around them. "We know who you are, but what we don't know is why you are here?"

The coldness of the words sting and I pull back quickly and work at reducing my annoyance at the woman. "Mrs Sachs, I simply wish to have a quiet word with Andréa." I try to explain.

The woman scoffs and her eyes roll. "You have some nerve, after everything..."

"Mom." She pulls away looking mortified as Mr Sachs closes his eyes.

"Beth..." There is a hint of warning there the woman ignores.

"Don't you dare Beth me, Richard Sachs. You said yourself how this woman was a menace..." The woman trails off as her husband pulls her hand into his and tries to tug her away. "Andrea ..."

She winces at the way her name falls from her mother's lips like a sharp admonishment and I can't help but close my eyes against the grating pronunciation of her name.

"Please, Andréa, just a few moments of your time." I will fall upon my knees and plead if I truly believe it is warranted. Anything just to have her listen.

"Come on up, Miranda." She swallows hard and tugs her fingers nervously. "Why don't you guys grab some coffee?" Her eyes land on her father almost begging him to give us time. He nods and gestures for Nigel and Emily to follow him as he pulls his wife away.

Andrea turns away and I follow her up the stairs to the third floor apartment that has been her home for the last year or so. Glancing around, I take in the tatty sofa and mismatched furniture, it is somewhat reminiscent to the first apartment I had here in the city. When she turns to face me, I say the first thing that springs to mind. "Stay."

"I can't." The whisper comes and her eyes fall shut as tears trickle from under her long eyelashes. She takes a shuddering breath. "I've broken my lease, and even if I wanted to stay I can't afford the rent on this dump on my own, I have no job..."

I can't stop myself from interrupting, hissing at her. "You do. You work for Runway. Human Resources do not yet know of your resignation."

"I...I..." She hiccups. "...can't continue working for you...not when I...I..."

"Hate me?" I fill in the blanks, my shoulders drooping, I realise she used the past tense when describing her feelings in her note. Maybe rushing down here was a mistake after all. "I'm sorry, I should..." I turn to walk away.

"No, not hate, never that." She grabs my arm and sniffs as I turn towards her. She exhales a shuddering breath "Lo...love."

The admission stuns me. This silly, brave, impossible woman loves me.

Me. The Devil in Prada.

Unable to resist, I step closer and cupping her face in my palms, brush the pads of my thumbs under her eyes, removing the stray tears. "Stay." My touch remains light, in case she wishes to pull away but she immediately curls into me and I feel awash with relief even as she cries. I hold her tight against me, letting her bury her face in the crook of my neck. "I love you, Andréa," I admit with my face buried in her hair, just hoping she hears the words. "My girl's love you. Even my damn dog adores you. This doesn't have to be the end."

I maneuver us to the sofa and sit down, pulling the woman onto my lap as she continues to sob, her words almost incoherent. "Mom ...interview...Cincinnati Enquirer."

I rub my hand over her back soothingly. "Will leaving New York really make you happy, darling."

She looks up in surprise at the term of endearment and I find myself blushing. She swipes at her tears and shakes her head. "No, but what can I do?"

"We can put our heads together and find you work here in the city should that be preferable to returning to Runway." I offer hopefully. "I'm sure between Nigel, Emily and I, we can also find you somewhere to live too if you believe staying with one of us is out of the question."

She giggles and the sound is like music to my ears. As she grins, I notice the dimple in her cheek playing peek-a-boo.

God, she is beautiful. I have been remiss in how I have treated her.

"You're making decisions for your staff that aren't yours to make." Her tone is soft and sweet as her tears give way to her smiles. "How do you know they would even offer?"

"Mere details." I wave my hand airily and feel my lips twitch in response to her smile. "I know neither has room for a long-term guest, which leaves the townhouse as the only option."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Miranda, I..."

Placing my fingers over her lips, I smile softly. "If necessary I can speak to the super and see if he would be willing to forget all this." I remove my fingers and see her eyes focus on my lips.

All I can do is gaze at her as I free her hair from its bun and take in her beauty. My fingers tangle into her long, lustrous chocolate tresses and across her delicate, dark eyebrows. I see sadness etched in the hazel eyes that have always caught my attention. Her pale skin holds just a hint of rosiness about her cheekbones. But it is her beautifully full, kissable lips I can't tear my eyes from.

All I have been able to think about for weeks is brushing my own against them but I sensed I would never stop kissing her should I start and that frightened me more than anything.

She doesn't say anything, but leans closer, puts her arms around my neck, her finger twining into the hair at the base of my skull, tilts my head back, and moves for face closer. Her breath coasts over my lips and before I have a moment to consider everything, a pair of soft lips press against mine gently before deepening the kiss even further.

I am lost. I know this will yet another thing that leaves an indelible mark upon me, like that final night in Paris.

The moments Andrea and I have shared have provided tactile memories, like the ones I have of rolling around with the twins for hours at a time in freshly fallen snow that has blanketed our back garden over the years and the first moment I held my children to my chest and finally understood the meaning of unconditional love.

Her kiss is like nothing I've ever experienced before and I cannot conceive of anything in the natural world I want more than to kiss this woman for the rest of my life. Her breath was sweet, her lips soft. She obviously has experience in making kisses take someone's breath away, either that or she has perfect instincts and knows exactly what I need from this blissful contact.

Without breaking the kiss, she moves from her position on my lap to straddle my thighs and leans in so her breasts press against mine. My hands move to her waist and as our kiss continues they roam over her, caressing her back and ass, pulling her closer still.

My body is on fire and I want her. I want to lie her down and taste every inch of her skin, dip my tongue between her thighs and lick, suck and bite. I want to give her neverending pleasure. I have never climaxed from kissing someone, but with her I do not doubt it could happen, especially with her moving on top of me the way she is, seeking further friction from the contact between us.

A small cough has us breaking away and I am displeased upon realising she has moved from my lap quickly. I feel the loss of her warmth and find it intolerable.

Opening my eyes, I see her shuffling anxiously from foot to foot as she tugs her fingers. I look towards the interruption and see the elder Sachs stood in the open doorway, coffee in hand.

While Beth Sachs stands there staring between us in stunned disbelief, Richard smiles softly at his daughter, his eyes sparkle with mischief and I know this is something we may both be teased about as the years pass.

He steps forward, going out a coffee to me and I shake myself from my thoughts and take it. As out fingers brush, he leans in. "I must ask, what are your intentions towards my daughter?"

I sit back and glance up at the man towering above me. I am suddenly fearful until I notice his lips are tilted up in a smirk. I swallow some of the searing coffee to bring moisture back to my dry throat and mouth. "I can assure you they are entirely honourable, Mr Sachs."

"I wouldn't call what we have just seen entirely honourable," Beth states, entering the room further. "You are married." She accuses.

"Separated." I insist. "And my divorce should be finalised by Easter, before if I have my way. I wish to plan for the future." I lick my lips. "With Andréa."

I do not want the Sachs thinking this is going to be something I hide from the world. I am not ashamed of finding love and Andrea is simply my perfect match on every possible level. Not only is she stunning but she is ambitious, smart, generous and honest. I would be a fool to let her slip from my grasp.

"Andrea?" Beth asks.

She looks down and pulls at her fingers harder. "Don't call me that. You know I hate it." She paces and stops tugging her fingers to brush them through her bangs. Her frustration is clear. She spins around to face her mother. "I love her, mom and I now know she loves me too. I wasn't sure. I...well, I thought I meant nothing to her so I told myself leaving was for the best, and you were saying...you put so much pressure on me...because of Nate leaving me, but..."

"But you want to stay?" Richard finishes.

Her face raises and she offers her father a broad smile. "Yeah. I'm sorry I dragged you here and..."

"No apologies, Andy." He sits beside me, his arm brushing mine as he sips his coffee. "Where will you live?"

"With me." Emily's voice comes from the hallway and I cannot help my small smile as she appears, dragging a flustered Nigel along in her wake. "She can have Serena's room while she is in Brazil."

"She's due back next week Emily." I remind her softly.

"Yes, but she will move into my room, with me." The blush rising along her usually pale cheeks has Andrea grinning and Nigel clapping his hands in glee.

"There's that job going at the New York Mirror," I advise the room taking the focus of Emily who nods once in thanks.

"Greg Hill will take you in a heartbeat, Six." Nigel steps around Beth and stood in front of Andrea. Taking her hand, he leads her back toward where I am sat with her father. Richard scoots to the far end of the sofa and Nigel pushes her down between us. "Just think about it. A new beginning."

I slip my arm around her shoulder and pull her close. Her head rests on my shoulder as she sighs as my lips brush against it. "Yes, a new beginning."


End file.
